


Little Princess

by Bipolar_Armitage_Hux



Series: Bastards and Broken Things [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Agender Hux, Autistic Hux, Child Abuse, Cissexism, Forced Feminization, Gaslighting, Gen, Incest, Intersex Hux, Intersexism, Manipulation, Neglect, Oral Sex, PTSD Hux, Rape/Non-con Elements, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bipolar_Armitage_Hux/pseuds/Bipolar_Armitage_Hux
Summary: Since Hux tells his father he is in fact, not a boy, his father has decided to not treat him like one... But not quite in the way Hux would like.





	1. A Reluctant Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of this is taken almost word for word from one of mine and kohoutek's rps because the guy has such good ideas.

Hux was awoken that morning by a loud banging on his door, the creak of his door opening and then some familiar footsteps. He winced and shifted uncomfortably before opening his eyes and discovering his father standing over him with a smirk, causing the boy to spasm and swear under his breath in a brief moment of shock.   
  
"Who wakes people up like that?" Hux mumbled.   
  
"You have five minutes to get up, and come to my study. Or I'll be back with the cold water and you wouldn't want that would you, princess?" Brendol said.    
  
"Did you just-" Hux began but his father was already out the door before he could finish. Princess? He thought. That as... Odd. Knowing from experience his father's threat wasn't empty he got out of bed and stretched awkwardly before rubbing his eyes and yawning. He stumbled as he got up, lazily draped his black and white striped duvet back over his bed and, realising he didn't have time for a shower, went to his wardrobe and grabbed a clean pair of boxer shorts, pulling on a pair of worn jeans and a greying black t-shirt. He took a glance at himself in the mirror and tried to flatten his hair a little, which was disheveled from having been laying in bed. Hux walked out of his room and up the stairs, his chest heaving and clinging to the dark brown banister to keep himself steady. When he eventually got to the large, mahogany door he knocked and wait, secretly hoping that his father had changed his mind. 

  
"Come in, my girl," called his father from inside. Hux's hand stiffened as he reached for the door, he rested it for a moment on the door knob. My girl? He thought. Oh no, this... This was about what he'd told him a couple of days ago. It had to be. He took a deep breath before opening the door, trying to focus on stopping his hands from shaking. When he walked in he saw his father sitting behind the heavy, grand oak desk, leaning back in his red, leather chair with his feet propped on the desk and his hands placed on his lap. He had a thin smile and his eyes had that familiar glint that was like needles in Hux's skin. "Close the door behind you, I taught you manners didn't I, princess?" Hux gulped and followed orders and as he did noted three, long black covers on the door, they looked like suit covers but a little bit long for them? He didn't really think about it further. He turned back around and stood to attention in front of his father's desk, trying not think about how his head was becoming cloudy and his chest was tightening. After a few moments of silence, Hux couldn't take the hungry stare Brendol was giving him any longer.   
  
"You asked me here, father?" Hux said, his voice shaking a little. He saw Brendol smirk as soon as he heard his voice, Hux cleared his throat. He hated how he was fourteen and his voice hadn't broken yet, the doctor's said it might take a little while because of his low testosterone, it might never happen. He looked down at the floor with burning cheeks, flinching as Brendol began speaking, a little too loudly.   
  
"Yes, I've been thinking about what you said the other day, Armitage," his father began, noting his son's wince at the use of his first name.   
  
"Have you- change your mind?" Hux asked hopefully, not expecting the answer to be 'yes'.   
  
"No. I'm still going to refer to you as Armitage. It's your name, I chose it for you. Would you do much a disservice as to throw it away like that? Besides, I'm not sure you deserve to be called by my name," Brendol sneered. "Although I am glad that you finally admitted you're not a boy, it was obvious from the day you were born so it's a good step admitting that you are merely an androgynous freak of nature. However, it's like I told you then. You will be whatever I want you to be whenever I want you to be it. And I've decided on what I want you to be." Brendol stopped, staring at Hux expectantly. He almost wanted to ruin his little performance by not responding but... He didn't want to get into more trouble.  
  
"Oh? What's that?" Hux sighed.   
  
"My little girl, my princess. I mean, you don't have much of a cock, you sound like a girl, and you yourself admit your not a boy. It just ties together so neatly, don't you think?" Hux could feel Brendol's mocking grin burning into him, he didn't need to look but the moment he heard his father clearing his throat he knew he had to. He looked up, just at the space above his father's head and allowed the man to see his blushing, humiliated face.   
  
"You- are you serious?" Hux said, he felt his eyes stinging and clenched his jaw in an attempt to stop the tears falling down his face. "I- I told you I'm not a girl," he ended, is knee let out an involuntary spasm, and blushed as he realised it looked like he had stamped his foot. That wasn't going to help his case.   
  
"You know better than to speak to me like that, child," Brendol responded quietly, his blue eyes darkening for a moment - scaring Hux into a trembling silence. After a moment, he went back to his mocking glare. "In fact, I decided to celebrate your confession to buy you some fine new clothes, princess."   
  
"D-don't you- I don't want you-" Hux stammered.  
  
"Already been done I'm afraid," Brendol said before taking his feet from the table and standing up from his chair. "You," he began, walking towards Hux. "Are mine, my possession, my toy. And if I decide I want you to be my little princess in pretty clothes I bought specially for you, that's what you're going to do." He stopped in front of Hux, towering over the skinny, fourteen year old boy. The child had had a growth spurt recently, adding quite a lot of height to him but he still wasn't as tall as his father. He was even smaller when the man was there, in front of him, forcing him to back himself into a corner.   
  
"I- I- " Hux began taking a step back. "I - I'm your child. I'm not a possession or... I'm not yours. I'm not a pet," he paused, taking a moment to get his breath back. "I- why would you spoil me  _now_? I spent years wearing hand-me-downs and second-hand clothes, that was stuff I needed. This you- you do this now?" He tried to make his voice sound strong and demanding but he just sounded like a whining child. He knew that's precisely why his father hated him.   
  
"Of course I  _own_ you," the older man began mockingly. "I keep you in my home, I feed you, I named you and sometimes I ... _play_ with you. How are you  _not_ my pet?" Hux felt the tears in his eyes betray him as he tried to maintain a strong defense against his father.   
  
"W-what did you get me?" The child said voice sounding weak and defeated.   
  
"I bought you a few pretty dresses, stockings and fetching shoes," his father said, visibly amused by Hux's defeat.   
  
"You- you know I'm not going to wear them, right?" Hux responded, attempting to sound braver than he actually was. Brendol took a step forward, he put out his hand and using it to gently stroke Hux's cheek who winced and recoiled as if he'd burnt him. In response his father pushed his hand up and grabbed onto his hair. He ignored Hux's yelp as he brought his son's face close to his, the boy tried not to gag as he smelt the whiskey on his father's breath. He held the boy like this for a minute before dropping him and taking a step back.  
  
"You'll wear them if you want to be a good girl," Brendol said in a haunting, soft voice. "Good girls," he began, his voice mutating into something one might use to talk to a six year old. "Get kisses and Daddy's love."   
  
"I'm not ten years old any more. You - you can't make me humiliate myself just to feel loved," Hux said, his tears burning his face.   
  
"But you want my love, my beauty, and you can be good and worthy of it." His voice maintained it's sinister, haunting edge but there was still something soft and loving about it. Hux recognised the tone as one he used to manipulate him but it still managed to work, no matter how Hux tried.   
  
"Will- will you stay with me after? Will you stay in my bed, hold me, stroke my hair and - and tell me sweet things?" Hux asked, feeling himself shrink and his voice getting softer. His silent tears kept falling down his face but if it meant affection from his father he would do anything.   
  
"Of course I will, my good girl," his father crooned, bringing his hand back up to stroke his cheek. Hux looked up at the horrifying man who had hurt him so many times and found himself submitting to him again.   
  
"W-what do you want from me?" Hux responded quietly.   
  
"I want you to be good and submissive, like little girls should be," Brendol began, his hand running down to Hux's shoulders, to his chest, hip and waist, then eventually slipping up his t-shirt. He winced as he felt the warm, stubby fingers crawl and grab against his cold skin. "I want you to be in that pretty dress, stood in front of your bed, like a present waiting for me to unwrap when I get home. As soon as I enter the door I want you to curtsy and bow your head until I tell you you are able to look at me." Hux nodded.   
  
"Can-" He asked, tears present in his voice. He was ashamed at how meek he sounded. "Can we at least- stay in my room? Do I have to wear the dress anywhere else? I - I don't want anyone else to see."   
  
"Of course, my girl. You are  _mine_ and I don't want to share such a pretty thing with anyone," he said softly but with a familiar, sadistic twist to his smile. "I need to run some errands, but are you going to be a good girl and be read for when I get home?" Hux nodded frantically looking up at Brendol expectantly. "You poor thing," he began stroking the side of his face. "You are so desperate for me to love you, aren't you? it's too bad I never will." Brendol walked away from the crestfallen Hux and as he reached the door, he turned. "The clothes are on the back of the door. I'll be home in two hours, if you do not follow my orders," he stopped and a dark glint filled his eyes. "Well, let's hope it won't come to that." Hux stood shivering for a few minutes after his father left, silently sobbing and staring at the place where the man had stood. He couldn't believe what the man had just said, he'd told himself his entire life that his father did in fact love him and that's why... That's why what? He thought bitterly. He really was just a toy to his father, nothing more. It was a thought that felt like his father had stamped on his chest, it hurt too much. When he'd composed himself, he took the dress covers off the back of the door and carried them back to his room. Now that he knew he never would be able to appeal to his father's sense of humanity no matter how hard he tried the idea of being punished became much, much scarier. 


	2. Deal With The Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux is forced to please his father, in any way Brendol desires.

Hux stared at the three dresses he laid out on his bed, all with shoes and stockings which went with each. He had to admit, his father had gone to extreme lengths to humiliate him this time. He picked up the hem of the navy silk dress, that was further to the left, and examined the intricate embroidery. He smiled, he adored the feeling of the fabric. He played a little with the sky blue ribbon straps and the buttons just in the curved neckline. He picked it up gently, turned to his mirror and held it up across his front. It came down to about half way down his thighs and he felt embarrassed thinking about how on display he would be. Next, he tried the up the strapless, black thing with a red ribbon tied just under the lace cleavage. Be sighed and picked it up, the lace feeling rough against his skin. That one was... Well it would have been nice on someone who actually wanted to wear it he supposed. The final one was a light blue, loose dress with white, intricate lace on the hem and the flat neckline, with white lace straps. The light blue fabric felt surprisingly soft against his skin, he picked it up and placed it against his torso. He smiled, it came to just above his knee, it was loose and it might actually have been comfortable. If he had chosen to wear a dress, he might have actually chosen that one. Not that he felt like he would ever be able to now, he despised the idea that his father was making him do it... And why the man had decided to. He figured he should probably grab a quick shower before he got changed, he went into his bathroom, got unchanged, disassociated to the point where he was unaware of the tears falling down his face. He turned the water to it's coldest point for a few seconds before he couldn't take it any more. He shivered and his skin turned an unpleasant colour, he slowly warmed himself back up again. After he'd washed himself and the cold wasn't still stuck in his chest, he turned the heat up a little, letting it momentarily burning his skin before turning the shower off. He gently stroked the red skin where the rough, hot water hit him.   
  
He dried himself with the old, dark blue towel, the only one that was suspiciously in his bathroom that had cigarette burns in the middle. When he walked into his room with the towel wrapped around his waist, he took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. Not that he had long, he noted his alarm clock and he had twenty minutes until the man would get home. He pulled the light blue dress from the bed, pulled it on over him - which was easier than he suspected and he spun around to look at himself in the mirror. When he saw the genderless person with defined cheekbones and a flattering, loose dress his mouth opened. For the first time, he felt like the person in the mirror looked like... HIm. He loved the way the feeling of the fabric against his skin, and he the way he colour matched his eyes. He allowed himself to smile but then his face dropped when he realised what he would be wearing it for. He was preparing himself to be used by his father, and this was one of the few times in his life he actually liked what he looked like. But after this, he thought with his eyes stinging, it will be tainted. He was convinced at this point that his father knew that this would happen, which was why he had to make it into something sordid. The fucking monster, Hux said to himself as he spun around just once in the dress, letting it flow around him. He sat on the edge of the bed, slipping on the stockings his father had bought him. They matched the hem of his skirt, he wondered for a moment whether stocking usually slipped over a boy's legs this easily or if it was just because he'd barely grown any body hair... Unlike most fourteen year olds. Just like with his voice, the doctor said his body might catch up eventually but this again was a  _might_. He actually kind of liked it - his smooth chest and legs, his soft voice and androgynous complexion. The problem was his father turned it into something so painful. Before even attempting to slip on the high heels, he put the rest of the dresses back in their covers and hung them on the back of his door.   
  
He sat back on his bed, took out the shoes, pushing the shoe boxes under his bed and looked at the light blue, strappy high heeled shoes with slight intimidation. He stumbled when he tried to walk in trainers, he wasn't going to be able to go anywhere in these. Hopefully, he thought, father's not planning on taking me anywhere dressed like this. The shoes actually slipped on easier than he thought they would, he fastened the straps around his ankles and felt unsteady before he'd even placed his feet on the ground. He attempted to stand up and to his surprise managed it, if he  propped himself up on the bed and then on the walls. He wanted to catch a look at himself in the mirror and smiled with tears in his eyes. He closed his eyes and wished he was dressed like this for some other reason, in a pretty dress with matching heals and stockings. He looked so pretty, innocent and precious. He wish he had someone who wasn't his father to appreciate him. He... He didn't want to be fucked like this. He especially did not want to be raped like this. He heard the front door shut, he dried his eyes and stumbled back onto the bed. He perched on the edge, his knees pressed together, staring at the door awaiting his father's arrival. He focused on keeping his breathing even and his attempted to smile. He didn't need to see his reflection to know it looked force and grotesque. He heard the footsteps outside of his door and looked down at the ground, stumbling up ready for when his father opened the door. As soon as he did and Hux heard it shut, he curtsied, stumbling as he did so, blushing and staring at the ground trying to ignore the fact that his father snorted as he did so.   
  
"You have permission to look at me princess, let me see that pretty little face with your pretty little dress," his father said softly. Hux looked up at his father, his eyes hungry for affections and his tear-stained cheeks burning. "My, my, my beautiful little girl dressed up just for me." Brendol reached out, running his fingers down Hux's cheek, neck, collar bone, lingering on his chest, stroking down to his hip, down his thigh until he reached his knee and ran his fingers up the inside of his right thigh, and stopped as reached his son's crotch and allowed him this moment to grin. "Of course, I thought I forgot something. Oh well, no underwear at all will do. Who knew my little princess was such a slut?" He said mockingly, smirking as he grabbed Hux's cock digging his nails into the shaft. He used his free hand to force the boy to look at him, he let out a chuckle when he saw his son's thin pale face contorting and wincing. Hux gulped as he let go and tensed when the hand that had just been between his legs was grabbing his face. He let go and sat on the edge of the bed, roughly pulling Hux into his lap.  
  
"Now, princess," the man began, his hand returning to under the blue dress and between Hux's legs causing him to yelp - which in turn caused Brendol to let out a snort before. "You're going to get on your knees, and I'm going to fuck your pretty little throat. I don't care if you choke or can't breathe, my girl, you are going to do it until I tell you to stop. Disobey that order if you want to be a bad little girl. Bad little girls get their pretty little dresses covered in their own blood. If you want to be a good little girl, obey my orders and you'll get cuddles, kisses, and Daddy's love. Do you want Daddy's love, princess?"  
  
"Yes, father-" Hux was interrupted by a sudden, slap in the face which made him whine and recoil. "I mean - yes, daddy, I'm sorry daddy," Hux finished tears in his throat as his face burned with embarrassment and pain.  
  
"Good girl," Brendol purred, pushing his lips into Hux's and forcing his tongue down the boy's throat roughly. When he pulled away he bit Hux's bottom lip and didn't stop when he tasted blood. He only let go when he got to here his son let out a pained whine. After that with a smirk, he grabbed the boy his the hair and dragged him on the floor. He watched his son scramble towards his open legs as he pulled out his cock with a smirk. "Open wide princess."   
  


* * *

  
Thankfully, Hux's father had decided he'd been a 'good girl' and afterwards they both laid under Hux's duvet, naked and curled up. His sadistic father, curled his son up into his arms, stroked the boy's hair, and every now and then kissing the top of the boy's head, cheeks and neck. His child was so tiny, in comparison to the man that he could scoop him into his arms and Hux could curl up into his chest. Occasionally Brendol's eyes flicked to the clock with boredom. He could leave the boy, he could get Hux to do so many things for him purely because he believed that his father did love him really. This was the only time his son got affection, and he had to give him so much that he'd do anything to get it again. The older man gently squeezed his son and kissed his cheek.   
  
"My precious, little one," he whispered as he rested his chin ontop of the boy's head. "You're so beautiful, Armitage" he added, he felt his son's skin warmed up a little as he snuggled into the man's chest. Brendol felt repulsed by it but he had to endure. The things I do for this maggot, he thought in irritation. He did everything so that he could fuck this child whenever he wanted - he kept the boy skinny so he looked younger and more attractive despite his deformities. Thankfully, he thought, they had caused the changes to his body to either slow down or be stunted. Meaning he still felt like he was fucking him four years ago. He had also tried his hardest to isolate the boy so that he would have no one to run to, and most importantly he convinced Hux that he did love him really. Because of course he didn't really. He didn't even want Hux to love him - he just wanted the boy to want him. it was obvious the moment the child was born he was never going to amount to anything, a weak, frail mutated freak who as soon as they began to grown could never do anything correctly. He knew his son would never be the great Commandant he was, which constantly angered him. The least he thought he'd get from a bastard was an heir, but apparently not. What did I ever do to deserve this? He was a good man he thought, he hated the boy and still gave him a home, a little food so he didn't starve (even if he did eat alarmingly little), and clothed him (mostly clothes that used to belong to the servants or their children but he gave him something). In all honesty, he felt like a saint for having given the child so much. Should he be rewarded for  _that_? 


End file.
